


Fear

by BatsyBatsyBatsy



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:30:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9166135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatsyBatsyBatsy/pseuds/BatsyBatsyBatsy
Summary: Suicide squad-verse, this the first jxhq fic I ever wrote which I just edited and added to, I present you with crap from my brain. I apologize for my horrid method of ending fics. Okay I’ll just let you read it now.





	

Harley Quinn could not fall asleep. No matter how much she willed her burning eyes to shut and allow her to fall asleep, her body wouldn’t cooperate.   
She shifted her head to look at Joker who was lying next to her in their bed, the deep purple satin sheets tangled in his hands, barley covering his pelvis. Times like this she could never tell if he was asleep. Most nights she had to massage his back, or stroke his hair in order to get him to even try to got to sleep, but tonight when she came to bed, he was already lying down with his eyes closed. This was probably due to last night; one of his bad nights. Harley had been settled in bed flipping through a magazine when he came home. She knew from the second his car parked in the driveway that he was not in a good mood.  
She cringed when she heard the door slam, and immediately after the sound of him setting off him machine gun, anyone in his way tonight would be dead. As he stomped up the stairs she heard the sound of a fist connecting with bone. He must have met Frost on the stairs, he was too valuable to kill. His lack of laughter only confirmed her thought that tonight was not going to be a funny one as they often were.   
At that moment he ripped the door open to their bedroom, his face masked from all emotion, as he slammed the door shut again. Harley didn’t dare speak, his anger would soon burn out, leaving him in a full on breakdown. Joker threw his gun the the floor, and swiped everything off the table next to him, letting out a strangled yell as he did so, all she could do was wince. His pain was so obvious. He tore across the room toward her and threw himself on the bed like a seven year old boy who didn’t get his way, but this went deeper than just a bad mood, this was real human emotion, something he did his best to push away, act as if he doesn’t have any. The chemical bath helped numb his senses, and fry his nerve endings, but nothing could erase emotion.  
His head rested on her shoulder, while she remained still. His heavy, anger-fuelled pants slowed, until they were quiet choked up breaths. Once she felt she shoulder began to dampen with his hot tears she made a tentative move, she gently moved her left hand to stroke his slicked neon hair. This was all he’d allow her to do for him in these rare moments. If she tried to cuddle him, or offer words of comfort, he’d be gone as quickly as he’d come, and she would have no idea when he’d come back, whether it be a day or a month, he’d leave a trail of destruction behind him, and not the fun kind. So she lied there with him, stroking his hair, until the tears stopped, and he would sleep.   
That was last night.  
Tonight, all Harley could feel was the crushing black of the room around her.  
Harley Quinn, crazy, wild, the stuff of nightmares, was terrified. People would often describe her as fearless. She played with the line that separated life and death like it was skipping rope. She was dating the Joker for the first thing. Getting involved with him is the most life threatening thing you can do in Gotham, but yet, right now she was lying next to him in bed. She had actually managed to get the clown prince of crime to care about her.   
Her whole brand was based around her fearlessness. The only person unafraid of the Joker, the girl with crazy ideas, and even crazier execution. A girl who would run straight into the center of gun fight with a baseball bat. But here she was.  
Her fear wasn’t fear for her life, she knew she wasn’t going to live long. Live fast and beautiful, die even faster and go out with a bang, that was her plan. She didn’t care when she died, what she feared was confinement.  
Her life was too precious, unique, and exciting to spent it locked away in a prison. She refused to spend her days on display for the guards, a mere play thing for their amusement, and weapon for the government, and trash in the eyes of those who surrounded her. Here, she was queen, no one dared get on her bad side. Here, she had a king, someone who loved her and challenged her everyday. Here, she made the rules, she had her own toys, and her own weapons. Here, she mattered.  
Memories of Belle Reve swirled in her brain, shoving her farther into this black pit that was so new to her. She had never met fear before Belle Reve, blissfully ignorant, now it welcomed her like an old friend, swallowing her whole.  
Harley felt the pink pricks of tears forming the corners of her eyes as more memories surfaced. Recently she had discovered she had repressed a good portion of her experience at Belle Reve, and now those memories came back to her one by one, bringing with each, a new, different layar of fear. They sent shivers throughout her body, and knotted her stomach a little more each time.  
She stared at the back of J’s head, trying to telepathically tell him to turn over. He did this weird thing after his bad nights were he pretended he didn’t need her for a night. It was the most backwards, upside down way of apologizing, but in his mind it was the most logical thing to do, and somehow she was able to understand this. But tonight was not the night to shut her out. Tonight, she needed him, she wasn’t even entirely sure to what extent, but she at least needed his eyes on her’s for one minute.  
“J?”  
Her voice was quieter, and shakier then she had ever heard it.  
“J.”  
She knew he was awake by the way he stiffened. She knew he was confused as to why she was talking to him when he was trying to ‘apologize’ to her, but she didn’t care.  
“Turn around” She ordered.  
He didn’t move.  
“God Dammit Joker, fucking look at me!”  
Her voice was still a whisper as she pleaded with him, but he turned over. With his face in front of her’s, and his tattoos coming into focus, she locked her eyes with his.  
She watched his expression morph into confusion as he registered the emotion he had never seen on her face before. He had no idea what it was, so he didn’t say a word. He probably didn’t even know she could feel fear with the way she acted most of the time.  
Harley knew that he had no idea how to react, and the look on his face wasn’t helping. She felt the fear compressing her lungs, oxygen wasn’t reaching her, and she froze for a minute. Everything she felt in the pit of her stomach seemed to amplify, it turned her blood to ice in her veins, overwhelming he completely. In a moment of pure panic, she dove toward J’s chest. Curling herself in a ball, pressing herself as close to him as possible. Maybe she could hide from the fear, maybe it wouldn’t find her in her made herself small, if her whole body was under the covers, maybe he could ward off the fear.  
“Harley?”  
He was confused entirely, no idea what was going on. She just folded her body into a smaller ball, partly wishing she could just disappear.  
Joker didn’t move for a moment, then she felt his arm press around her back. He may not understand fear, but he had learned comfort form her.   
Finally breath escaped Harley’s throat in the form a sigh of relief. Her mind and body was still constricted with fear, but maybe he could help her. Maybe.


End file.
